Strangers in Fort Benton
by Skykomish1
Summary: Heyes and Curry meet up with Heyes' older brother for the first time in almost two decades, but there is trouble in the town.
1. Chapter 1

**Strangers in Fort Benton**

"Beer," muttered Hannibal Heyes as he rode into Fort Benton, Montana. "First the livery and then a beer." His horse's hooves clomped in dry dust while a breeze cooled by the Missouri river reached out to ruffle strands of his dark hair. The name posted on the sheriff's office was Matthias Watley. Heyes touched the brim of his hat and nodded to the skinny man with the deputy star standing outside.

The deputy yanked open the door and hollered, "Sheriff."

Heyes' smile slipped away. "Now what," he muttered, prodding his horse to a trot. "Stables and then a beer," he reminded himself. "Everything'll be fine."

An hour later, Heyes laid a coin on the counter and motioned for a refill. The barkeep filled his mug and scooped up the coin. After a sip, the dusty ex-outlaw turned his back to the bar. Resting an elbow on the satiny wood, he glanced around the saloon. With a squeak of the bat-wing doors, a tall, broad man pushed inside. The star on his chest caught Heyes' attention.

Turning casually, Heyes presented his back to the sheriff. He took a gulp of beer and tried to ignore the looming presence now standing beside him.

"Howdy, Stranger. Heard you just rode in to town." The sheriff inspected the ex-outlaw "Could tell me your business in Fort Benton."

Heyes' smile twitched a bit around the corners. "Rode in from Helena, Sheriff. I'm meeting my partner here. We're doing a job for a friend."

"This friend got a name?"

"Colonel Harper. Lives in Cheyenne. We—me and my partner—work for him now and again. Do you know him?"

"Harper? Can't claim the honor, but I've heard of him. What kinda work?"

"Oh, deliveries, messages, that kind of thing."

"Whatcha deliverin'?"

"Actually, Sheriff, my partner has the delivery, and it's of a delicate nature, so I'd appreciate it if you'ld keep your voice down."

"Tell you what, Mr.…"

"Smith. Joshua Smith."

The sheriff's eyebrows rose. "Tell you what, Mr . . . . um. . . Smith…. Come on over to my office, and we'll talk private like."

Heyes' smile didn't touch his eyes. "That's not—" His explanation was cut short by the sheriff's pointed gun.

"I don't understand."

"No need to understand. Just come along to my office."

"Okay, Sheriff, but you don't need the gun. I'm a real peaceable fella."

The sheriff gestured toward the door. Heyes grabbed his beer and drained it before accompanying him outside.

Inside the office, the sheriff motioned to a cell.

"You're locking me up? Don't I get to know what you think I've done?"

"Sure. But first let Deputy Littleton take your gun and your belt."

Heyes' eyes turned flinty above his frown, but he unbuckled his belt and handed it to the deputy. The sheriff motioned with his gun before Heyes stepped into the cell.

"What's this about?"

"I have a suspicion that Smith ain't your name. I need to lock you up for a bit while I check out an idea I have."

"My name is Smith, and I'm waiting for my partner. We are doing a job for Colonel Harper."

"If that's all true, you'll be outta that cell real soon, but in the meantime I need to check out my suspicions."

"Suspicions?"

"Yep. I'm real suspicious that your right name might be Hannibal Heyes."

As the cell clanged shut, Heyes slumped onto the thin mattress and cradled his head in his hands. Again! Why was this happening again? He didn't know this sheriff or his deputy. He and the Kid had checked that out before taking this job.

He leaned against the wall, pushed his black hat to the back of his head, and pasted on a wide smile. "You're gonna feel real foolish, Sheriff, when my partner rides in and backs me up. Colonel Harper told us this job is important to your town. I don't want you getting into trouble."

Watley ignored Heyes. "Sam," he said to his deputy, "run on over to the dry goods and ask Jake Harrison to come by. I need his help."

Heyes slumped and lowered his hat. He covered his mouth with his hand as his chest heaved with a deep sigh. Jacob Harrison Heyes, he thought. Known here as Jake Harrison. He had hoped to introduce himself to his brother while he and the Kid were in Fort Benton, but he hadn't imagined that he'd be doing it from behind bars.

The bell over the door jangled, jarring Heyes from his brooding. He schooled his body to stillness, hoping to appear calm. Surreptitiously he peered from beneath his hat, observing the man limping into the office.

Jake was broader in the shoulders than his brother and not as slim. His brown hair was a match for Heyes' own, though it was cut short at the neck and above the ears. His eyes were the color of walnuts, rather than the deep brown of roasted coffee beans. His face was narrower than his notorious brother's, and fine lines gathered around his eyes and mouth. He used a cane to walk. A smile for the sheriff revealed the signature family dimples, but he didn't spare even a glance for cell's occupant.

Heyes sat straighter, but adjusted his hat to cover most of his face.

"What can I do for you, Matt?" asked Harrison, sinking into a chair.

"You remember tellin' me about your brother?"

Harrison frowned. "You agreed to never talk about that. Figured it's safer for my wife and kids to keep it quiet."

"I remember. But a stranger rode into town today, calling his-self Smith. He looks so much like ya, Jake, it got me to wonderin' if he was Hannibal Heyes."

Harrison's eyebrows crawled up his forehead. "Here? In Fort Benton?"

"In the cage behind ya."

Jake rose from his chair and peered inside the cell.

Heyes slowly removed his hat and set it on the mattress. His eyes locked with the lighter ones in Jake Harrison's face. The ex-outlaw offered the hint of a smile before dropping his eyes and resting his forehead on his hand.

"Is it him?" prompted the sheriff.

Heyes looked up and two sets of brown eyes locked again. Harrison frowned. His eyebrows drew together as he studied the man in the cell. After a pause, he shook his head.

"Matt, I haven't seen Han since he was 11 years old. I can't positively identify a man of 30 when I last saw him as a boy." He studied the man behind bars. Jake's smile widened until it showed dimples. An answering smile touched Heyes' mouth, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Jake faced the sheriff. "I'm sorry, but I just don't know. Could he be my brother? Sure. You figured that out by looking at him. But I can't confirm it. He was too young when I left, and too many years have passed in between."

"Dang. I was hoping." The lawman paused in thought. "Did your brother have any identifiable scars or birthmarks?"

Jake concentrated on the man behind bars again. Heyes slumped against the back wall.

"No, Matt," Jake replied firmly. "Han didn't have any distinguishing marks."

Heyes jammed his hat back on his head and rubbed his hand across his mouth. "Sheriff. I told you my name is Joshua Smith. My partner has the delivery for Colonel Harper. I was a decoy. That's why we're riding separate."

Jake raised his eyebrows at the mention of a partner.

"Who's this delivery for?" asked the sheriff.

"A lawyer. Fella by the name of Edwin Howell."

Harrison and Watley exchanged an intense look.

"Did Harper tell you what was in the package?"

"We don't agree to dangerous jobs without knowing the particulars, Sheriff. But like I told you, the job's confidential. I'm not sure about what I can say."

Before Harrison or Watley could respond, the door popped open, revealing the deputy's freckled face. "Another stranger's ridin' into town."

Heyes jumped to his feet. "What's he look like?"

"He's wearin'—"

"Sam! Don't answer the prisoner!"

"Sorry, Sheriff."

"Follow him and report where he's goin'."

"Yes, sir."

"Smith, does this friend yer expectin' have a name?"

"Jones. Thaddeus Jones."

"Smith…. and …. Jones." The sheriff glared at Heyes. "Jake, are you sure you can't identify that fella in the cage?"

Harrison chuckled and laced his finger through his hair in a manner that Heyes found unsettlingly familiar.

The deputy burst back inside. "He's headed to Mr. Howell's office."

"That's the lawyer excepting the delivery," added Heyes.

Jake and the sheriff exchanged a sharp look.

"Can I get outta this cell now?"

"Not yet, Smith. I'm goin' over to guard that delivery. I'll be back with this man Jones, assuming that's who he is, as soon as this business is finished. After that, we'll see about releasin' you."

Heyes slumped back onto his bunk. The bell over the door jangled as the sheriff left.

Harrison looked out the window. "The deputy's gone too." He walked back to the cell and examined the ex-outlaw. "Is it really you?"

"Yeah, Jake, it's me. Thanks for not identifying me."

"I really couldn't be sure. You were only eleven."

"But you didn't tell the sheriff about the birthmark on my hip. That's when I figured you wouldn't turn me in."

"You thought I might?"

"I didn't know what you would do. Like you said, it's been a long time."

"Han, I'd like to explain—"

"Not here. The sheriff could come back at any minute. Let's talk later. Somewhere we won't be overheard, and when I'm not in jail."

"I'm guessing it's not the first time. For jail, I mean."

Heyes' smile was rueful. "You got that dead on."

"One thing more. The man you're expecting?"

"Yep, it's K— I mean, it's Jed."

The sound of boots on the boardwalk warned them to silence. The bell jangled as the deputy entered.

"Don't you get sick of that thing clanging?" complained Heyes.

Littleton shrugged. "Sometimes," he answered. Sitting down at the desk, he placed his hands behind his head. "Sheriff Watley and that fella Jones are guarding Mr. Howell's office while he gets the paperwork ready to go over to the bank."

"I should be helping. Keeping me in this cell is keeping me from my job. That delivery is real important to a lot of folks here in town. Do you know what's in that package, deputy?"

"Yep. Bunch a money."

"Twenty-two thousand dollars. Now I ask you, deputy, if I were that outlaw Hannibal Heyes, would I've been trusted with that kind of money? Think about it. A bank robber trusted with twenty-two thousand dollars."

Jake gaped at his brother and shook his head.

"It sure don't seem likely," answered the deputy. "But maybe that colonel fella didn't know who he was hirin,' or maybe you jest couldn't get your hands on the money with that Jones fella carrying it all."

"Or maybe, just maybe, my name is Joshua Smith, and I need to be over at the lawyer's office helping."

The deputy chuckled. "Whoever he is, he sure can talk, cain't he, Mr. Harrison?"

"Yes, he sure can, Sam. He sure can."

About an hour later, Watley returned with a dusty Kid Curry. Curry exchanged a nervous glance with his partner. Jake Harrison's eyes were fixed on the blond.

"Mr. Jones," began the sheriff, "this is Jake Harrison. He owns the local dry goods store."

Kid extended his hand, but when he saw the man, his mouth fell open. He looked at Heyes who rolled his eyes.

"Looks a lot like me, don't he, Thaddeus?"

"Yep," Curry gulped. He extended his hand again. "Sorry 'bout the reaction. Nice to meet you, Mr. Harrison."

Jake clasped Curry's hand and flashed him a dimpled smile.

The Kid controlled a shudder.

"So, Jones, is the man in the cell your partner?"

"That's Joshua, Sheriff. Why's he locked up?"

"Had a suspicion that he might be Hannibal Heyes. I'm still nervous about lettin' him out."

"This might help," said Curry handing over telegram.

"What's it say, Sheriff?" asked Heyes and his brother in unison. They glanced at each other with a sideways slide of the eyes. Neither man turned his head. Standing behind the lawman, Curry shook his head.

The sheriff read the telegram aloud.

To: T. Jones and J. Smith

Have additional job _stop_ Gunnie arriving Fort Benton to help banker _stop_ Ask Sheriff for details _stop_ Standard daily wage _stop_ Confirm acceptance by telegram _stop_

Harper

The sheriff sighed. "I guess you two really are working for Colonel Harper. Time to let you out, Mr. Smith, but you got to admit you fit the description of Hannibal Heyes. I hope there's no hard feelin's."

"No hard feelings, Sheriff."

Watley squatted in front of a safe tucked behind his desk. Heyes watched him turn the dial until he caught Curry glaring at him. He shrugged and smiled with one side of his mouth. A wide eyed Jake looked from one partner to the other. After the safe was opened, the sheriff stood up with a ring of keys and a gun belt and revolver. Heyes stepped out of the unlocked cell, took his things, and flashed both his partner and his brother the full dimpled grin.

"What details is Colonel Harper talkin' about?" Curry asked.

"Are you taking the job?"

"We need the details before we can decide," Heyes answered.

The sheriff sat behind his desk. "Pull up a chair, and I'll fill ya in. Somethin' fishy is goin' on at our bank. A few months back a man arrived claimin' to work for the railroad. But it's not clear which railroad he's workin' for, and the money he offers for land is way below market value.

"About the same time, Gerald Barstow, the banker, started shaking down businessmen and foreclosing on folks' land. He's always been a hard-nosed fella, but this was different. Good people, like Mr. Harrison here, were surprised to learn about really high late fees and things in their loan papers that allowed Barstow to raise the interest rates. Between the depression and Barstow's policies, folks have been forced to choose between sellin' to this so-called railroad man at really low prices, or just plain losing everything when Barstow forecloses."

Heyes mouth formed a thin line. "So someone here in town arranged for a loan from a bank in Helena to help out, and Colonel Harper hired us to deliver the cash here quietly. Then that lawyer—Howell was it?—arranged the paper work to pay off folks debts, or at least bring them current. Do I understand the situation?"

"Yes, you do, Mr. Smith," interjected Jake.

Curry frowned. "Why haven't you arrested this railroad fella and the banker?"

"Because they haven't done anything illegal. I don't like what they're doin' but I can't arrest folks for being greedy jackasses. They gotta break the law first."

"What do you think this gunfighter they are sending to town will do?"

"Not sure about that, Jake," replied the sheriff.

"Most likely his job is to intimidate people into selling or leaving town altogether," offered Heyes.

Curry nodded. "Seen this kinda thing before in the range wars down in Texas and also in Wyoming."

"So how can we help, Sheriff," asked Heyes.

"Extra man power. Keep an eye out in the saloons and on the streets. Look out for anyone makin' threats and help protect the folks who owe the bank money." The sheriff looked from Heyes to Curry and back again. "You two any good with those six shooters?"

Curry smiled. "I usually hit what I aim at."

Jake shifted nervously, and Heyes coughed to disguise a chuckle.

"What about your partner?" the sheriff persisted.

"He's kinda slow," Curry said, "but he's accurate."

"You gonna take the job?"

Blue eyes met brown in a silent conversation.

Heyes shrugged.

The Kid answered. "Yeah. We'll take it."

"Then I should deputize both a ya."

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Heyes rattled off. "We're working for Colonel Harper, not you. Besides having two strangers arrive in town and then show up wearing stars would draw attention. We'll just pretend to be drifters. That will make it easier to keep our eyes on things."

"You could be right about not drawing attention."

The tension ran out of Curry's shoulders.

"We'll send a telegram to Harper on the way to the hotel," added Heyes.

"No. Bath first, then the telegram," argued Curry, his eyes turning to blue ice.

"Fine, Thaddeus. No need to get proddy. I'll telegraph him. You head to the hotel. Save me some bath water." Heyes paused and pushed his chair against the wall. "Mr. Harrison, we could use some more information, from the business perspective. Details about what the banker is doing. If you have the time…" Heyes' voice grew soft and his words trailed off.

Curry watched with concern.

"Would you mind coming up to our room so we can ask you some questions?"

"I'd be glad to, Mr. Smith," replied Jake with a reassuring smile.

About an hour later, a bathed and shaved Hannibal Heyes paced between the beds in their hotel room. He wore his dark blue shirt and tan pants. The door opened, and his gun was half drawn before he recognized the Kid's red shirt. Heyes secured his gun. Curry pushed inside and set an unopened whiskey bottle and three glasses on the dresser.

"Thanks, Kid," Heyes said as he attacked the seal on the bottle. After splashing about two fingers into a glass, he raised the bottle in unspoken question. Curry nodded. Heyes poured again.

A soft knock sent the blond to the door with his colt drawn. "Who is it?"

"Jake Harrison," came the muffled response. The Kid cracked open the door without holstering his pistol. He peered outside before pulling it wider. Harrison stared at the drawn colt.

"Sorry," muttered Curry, holstering his gun.

"I suppose you two need to be real careful."

"Yeah," Heyes muttered before boldly meeting his brother's gaze. "Twenty thousand dollars is a big temptation."

"I won't turn you in, Han. I thought I made that clear earlier." He stepped closer. "I just want to apologize. Explain why I wasn't there when . . . well . . . when you needed me."

"You want to apologize to me?"

"I wasn't there for you. For either of you." His glance included Curry.

Heyes placed a hand on Jake's shoulder. "If you had been there, you would be dead. You were only nineteen. Even if you had survived, you couldn't have taken care of us? You would have starved with Jed and me. I couldn't find an honest job at nineteen. Not with the depression and unemployed men from the war."

"At nineteen you had five hundred dollars on your head, Heyes. Makes findin' honest work kinda tricky."

"Thanks a lot, Kid."

Jake studied the blond gunman. "I haven't even said hello to you, Jed. I'm sorry."

Curry smiled and extended his hand. They shook and then slapped each other on the back.

"You were always an amazing shot, even as a little guy learning to hunt. If you are half as good as your reputation. I'm in awe."

"He's better than his reputation," beamed Heyes.

Jake scrutinized his brother. "Five hundred dollars on your head at nineteen? Really, Han? That's one thing I'm glad Ma and Pa didn't live to see. It would've broken their hearts, especially those words "dead or alive" that appear above your name."

"I like to think that if they had lived, I wouldn't have a price on my head. But I may be making excuses for myself." Heyes poured another whiskey. "Would you like a drink?"

Jake nodded. Heyes refilled his partner's glass and poured for his brother.

"Jake, there is something I want you to know. Kid—or Jed—and me. We've stopped outlawing. It's been over a year since we robbed anybody. We are trying to go straight."

Jake grabbed his brother in a hug and then held his shoulders. "That is the best news I could've heard. I'll give both of you any help that I can. Is that why a man like Colonel Harper trusted you with all that money?"

Blue eyes met brown.

"The specifics are confidential, but the Wyoming governor has promised to help with our legal troubles if we stay clean. Harper's a friend of the governor. He knows who we are and likes to recruit us for dangerous jobs."

"I see. One other thing, Han. You didn't show a hint of surprise at seeing me. Are you that good a liar?"

"Maybe. I've had a lot of practice. But I wasn't surprised to see you. I knew that you lived here in Fort Benton, and I knew that you were using the name Jake Harrison."

"How?"

"Kid and I were here five years ago. I saw you."

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

"It was five years ago, Jake."

"Okay."

Heyes sighed. "What do you think I was doing here five years ago?"

"I don't know. What were the two of you doing here five years ago?" Heyes could see his brother putting together the pieces. "You were planning a robbery."

"Yep."

"But the bank here has never been robbed."

"And the good people of Fort Benton, Montana have you to thank for that. I couldn't risk wiping out my brother's savings. Once I saw you, the job was off."

"I know what you two have been doing all these years. I can hardly help from knowing with the wanted posters and the newspaper articles, but it just isn't real to me. The two ornery boys I knew who were always getting into mischief. Now that's real. The wanted men Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry with ten thousand dollars a piece on their heads, that's not real to me."

"Unfortunately, it's real to us," stated the Kid.

Heyes poured everyone a refill during the silence. Kid put his feet up and reclined on his bed. Jake limped over to a chair in the corner and placed his cane by the wall. Heyes continued to pace.

"What happened to you, Jake?" he asked. "How'd you get that limp, and how did you end up in Montana?"

"I got injured at Shiloh. Captured too. I spent the next two years at the Camp Douglas prisoner of war facility near Chicago. That place was horrible. When they offered to let us out in exchange for serving in the Union Army out west, I snapped it up. I was afraid they wouldn't take me because of my limp, but they needed men badly enough to ignore it. So in May of '64 I was sent to Fort Benton by the Union army. Galvanized Yankees they called us."

"You were in a prison camp?" Curry asked.

"I was."

Heyes snorted. "After all the laws that Kid and I have broken, it's my honest, straight arrow brother who serves time."

Jake shot Heyes a dark look. "Anyway, after I was mustered out in '67, I went back to Kansas. You know what I found. Two dead and haunted farms and no family. Folks in Stanton couldn't help. The courthouse had burned down taking all the records with it. I didn't even know that you two had survived until I saw your wanted posters."

Curry sat up straight. "Emily Ann is still alive. At least she was."

"Your baby sister?"

"We got separated when they sent Heyes and me to a home, but Emily Ann was adopted. I don't know where she is now."

A knock caused the Kid to draw his gun while his partner walked to the door. Once Curry was in place, Heyes called softly, "Who is it?"

"Deputy Littleton."

Heyes opened the door. When the deputy was inside, the Kid lowered his colt.

"There's another stranger in town. Sheriff wanted ya to know."

"Thanks," said Heyes as the deputy left.

Kid moved to the window while the dark haired partner rummaged in his saddle bags. Returning with binoculars, he stood against the wall on the other side of the window.

"See anything?"

"Yeah, and it's makin' me nervous."

Heyes handed him the binoculars. Curry inspected the stranger, sighed, and handed them back.

"Who is it?'

"Sam Ackerly. He's dangerous, Heyes. He might be as good as me."

"Wanted?"

"In Texas. Maybe Colorado."

"He knows you?"

"Yep."

"Well, Kid, he don't know me, so here's what we're going to do."


	2. Chapter 2 Revelations by Moonlight

Strangers in Fort Benton – Chapter 2

Revelations by Moonlight

Brown eyes peered from out of the darkness. Perched on a bench, crouching in the shadows, Hannibal Heyes watched the bat-wing doors of the Silver Slipper Saloon and Dance Hall. Sam Ackerly had gone inside over three hours ago. Heyes was tired of waiting. With a heavy sigh, he pressed both hands in the small of his back and stretched.

The outline of a man blotted out the gaslight glow escaping from the saloon doors. The shadow paused on the boardwalk, and the flash of a struck match was followed by the flare of a puffed cigar. The man stepped off the boardwalk, and the bobbing tip of the cigar moved into the street. Flimsy clouds fluttered in a stray breeze, while the top sliver of a rising moon crowned the distant hills, casting a flickering path across the placid flow of the Missouri river. The shadow in the street turned his face to the rising moon. In the lunar light Heyes recognized Sam Ackerly.

"Showtime," Heyes breathed as he stood. His throat worked in dry swallows. Wiping both hands on his thighs left two damp smudges. Chin held high, he stepped purposefully into the street.

"Sam Ackerly," he challenged in a calm voice.

The shadow stopped and turned toward Heyes.

"Ackerly, I'm placing you under citizen's arrest. Drop your weapon and move along quietly with me to the sheriff's office, and we won't have any trouble."

"Ya got the wrong man, Mister. The name's Johnson." His voice was flat and sounded bored. He puffed on his cigar again. "I'll be headin' back to my hotel now." The gunslinger turned his back on the dark-haired challenger.

A small crowd gathered at the bat-wing doors.

"Your name's Ackerly, and you're wanted in Texas. You're here to scare folks into giving up their farms and homes. Now drop the gun, and we won't have any problems."

Ackerly pivoted on his heel. He squared off directly across from Heyes. His hand crept toward his thigh.

Heyes swallowed. His eyes slid sideways toward the river. A smile teased at his mouth at the glint of reflected moonlight.

"Mister, ya made a mistake," warned the gunnie. "You can apologize, and we can forget about this." His voice dropped and grew chill. "Or we can settle it right here in the street. But I ain't goin' to no sheriff's office with ya."

The bystanders scurried back into the lights of the saloon.

"We're going to see the sheriff." Before Heyes finished his sentence, two shots cracked through the darkness.

Heyes' Schofield barely cleared its holster. Ackerly staggered in the street, cradling his gun hand. Blood flowed freely between his clenched fingers and pooled in the dirt. Heyes cocked his pistol and aimed at the gunslinger. Another slim, dark-haired figure slipped around the corner of a building behind the injured man. He rammed the butt of a shotgun into the gunslinger's head, connecting directly behind his ear. Ackerly crumpled to the ground. Heyes kicked the man's pistol toward the boardwalk. Jake retrieved the Colt and knelt next to his brother. Heyes was checking the injured man's breathing.

"He's out cold," Heyes called over his shoulder toward the river. "But I think you broke his arm."

Reflected moonlight glinted on a gun barrel in the darkness. A man stepped forward, and the shadows resolved into the tall form of Kid Curry. The blond ex-outlaw inspected the unconscious gunslinger before twirling his Colt back into its holster. Heyes stood. He and his brother moved closer to Curry. Heyes kept his gun pointed at the unconscious man

"Thanks, Kid," he whispered.

"No problem, Heyes. He didn't hit ya?"

"No. Worked just like we hoped. Ackerly's the only one bleeding."

"That was some fancy shooting." Jake shook his head. "I guess you really earned that reputation."

"Shhh," cautioned the Kid.

"Your buddy the sheriff or one of his deputies will be here soon," explained Heyes.

As if his words had summoned them, both Sheriff Watley and a deputy came running around the corner, guns drawn. Watley skidded to a stop when he saw Jones, Smith, and Harrison standing in the street around the unconscious Ackerly. "What's goin' on?"

"I recognized the gunslinger," announced Heyes with a grin. "He's Sam Ackerly. Wanted in Texas and Colorado. So we did a citizen's arrest for you. He wasn't too cooperative though, so you might want the doctor to come down to the jail and check him out."

"I'll fetch Doc Finner, Sheriff," offered Jake.

Watley nodded.

"I'll go with him. Meet ya back at the hotel, Joshua?"

"Sounds good, Thaddeus. I'll help the sheriff and then meet you in our room."

Curry holstered his Colt as his partner and Jake slipped inside the hotel room. Heyes stalked straight to the dresser and yanked open the top drawer. He pulled out the whiskey bottle and three glasses. After pouring himself a stiff drink, he offered one to each of the other men by gesturing with the bottle. Amber liquid sloshed into glasses. Heyes sprawled in a chair and toed off his boots.

"Kid, I don't know how you do that. I was scared stiff. If you hadn't been hidden in the shadows, I'd be a dead man." Heyes drained his glass and poured himself another.

"I told ya he was good. But I wouldn't let him shoot ya." Curry took a sip. "How is he? Is the arm broke?"

Heyes grimaced. "The doctor patched him up. He'll live, but . . . well, it's a bad break, Kid. He's not going to be fast drawing anymore."

"Damn. I didn't mean to hurt him that bad, but the angle was off. I'm used to facin' a man directly. Shootin' from the side was tricky."

"Does it matter?" Jake looked confused. "Ackerly would have killed you or Han. He's in jail now and won't be fast drawing on anyone else again. Isn't that a good thing?"

Heyes offered his brother a dimpled grin. "Maybe, Jake. But after years on Ackerly's side of the law, it's hard for us to see it that way. It could have been Kid or me lying in the dust, just as easy as it was Ackerly."

Jake took a sip of his whiskey and studied his boots. "Jed, do you hire out your gun?"

Kid Curry looked hurt. "Do you think I'd do that?"

"I'm asking."

"No. At least not in a whole lotta years. And when I did hire out my gun, it was never to kill."

"Then I don't see how you and Han can be put in the same category as Sam Ackerly."

"Thanks for seeing it that way, Jake." This time Heyes' smile didn't reach his eyes. "But the law's not as discriminating as you are."

Curry looked a question at his partner. "Your plan worked so far, Heyes, but how do we keep Ackerly from identifying me to the Sheriff?"

Heyes sighed.

"It's gonna look real suspicious if I stay outta the sheriff's office."

"I know, Kid. I know."

"So what are we gonna do?"

"I'm working on it! Just stay away from Ackerly and the sheriff until I figure something out."

"Just stay away? That's your plan!"

"It's all I got right now."

"It ain't much of a plan."

"I know. Ya got a better one?"

"No." Curry smirked at Harrison. "Your friend Matt Watley is one sharp and suspicious sheriff. Not our favorite kinda lawman."

"Matt is quick witted, and he's already suspicious of you two. Sorry about that."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that. Why did you tell the sheriff I'm your brother, Jake?"

"I had planned to keep that bit of information to myself, but I was arrested in Helena two years ago. The sheriff there thought I was you. He was real happy and gloating about how he was going to spend that $10,000 bounty. Matt had to come vouch for me. "

"Oh." Heyes studied his boots. "Sorry about that."

Jake shrugged. "On the train trip back home, Matt had lots of questions. I thought that I owed him an explanation. That's when he learned that my real name is Heyes, and that you are my brother."

The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable. Heyes studied his drink while his brother studied Heyes.

"I need to get home. Sarah will be worried." Jake drained his glass and set it on the dresser. "Remember dinner is at 6:00 o'clock tomorrow. You're both expected."

"We'll be there," promised the Kid.

"Jake. How old are your children?"

"Jimmy is eleven. Rachel is nine, and Zeke is six. I'm glad you're going to meet them."

"So am I, but it might be best if they don't know who we are."

"I agree, Han. And please don't be hurt, but they don't know about you. I mean, they've heard about Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, of course, but they don't know that Hannibal Heyes is my brother. In fact, they don't know I have a brother at all."

Heyes offered a crooked smile. "I understand. And it's best we keep things quiet until the Kid and I get our amnesty or your children are older."

"Sarah knows, though. And she knows who's coming to dinner."

"Is that a good idea?"asked Curry.

"I'm not lying to my wife. Not telling her that you're Heyes and Curry would be a big lie. I won't do that."

"How does she feel about us coming to her home?" Heyes asked.

Jake grimaced. "She's worried, Han. Her pa was a church pastor. Her home was strict, and you two don't exactly fit her view of what's proper. She's worried about what kind of influence you two will be on the children."

Blue eyes met brown under furrowed foreheads.

"Are ya sure ya want us to come?"

"Yes, Jed. I'm very sure. Just hang your guns on the rack when you come into the house. No guns and be polite. You both have great manners."

"Yes, both Ma and Mrs. Curry made sure that we knew how to behave. I guess those early lessons stick with you."

Jake Harrison walked to the door and paused with his hand on the knob. "See you both tomorrow."

The Harrison home was on the second floor above their hardware store. The entrance to the residence was on a side street and opened into a small room on the ground floor. Jake answered the door. After the gun belts of both ex-outlaws hung on a hook in the entryway, the men climbed the stairs to the living quarters.

Sarah Harrison was tall for a woman. Light brown hair, highlighted with gold streaks, framed a heart shaped face with even features. She waited for the three men in the parlor at the top of the stairs. Her arms crossed her chest, and her mouth formed a firm line.

"Welcome to our home, Mr. Heyes. Mr. Curry."

Heyes raised an eyebrow as his eyes darted about the room. The Kid also inspected their surroundings.

"The children are in their room for the moment. I asked Jake to let us have a few minutes to speak frankly with one another before the children join us." She wiped her hands on her apron and licked her lips. "I am an honest woman, and I want you to know that I am not entirely comfortable with you two being here."

Blue eyes met brown in a question. Heyes shrugged, then met the eyes of his sister-in-law.

"I understand that, and if you want us to go, we'll leave. No questions and no offense."

"No, Mr. Heyes. You are my husband's brother, and he has asked you here." Her steely gray eyes flicked quickly to Curry and then back to her brother-in-law. "Both of you." She cleared her throat. "He trusts you and has asked me to extend the same courtesy. I'm trying." 

"Sarah!" scolded Harrison. "There's no danger here. I told you, they quit stealing. They're working for Colonel Harper. If we avoid losing this house and the store, it will be because of them."

Heyes smiled ruefully and looked down. "Thanks, Jake, but your wife has reasons to worry. We _are_ still wanted, and friends have been arrested for helping us before. We aren't safe to know."

"And you've been smart to keep the fact that you and Heyes are kin quiet. There are bounty hunters who would use you to get to Heyes and me."

Brown eyes squinted above a frown. "Yeah. Some folks will do most anything for $20,000."

Jake chuckled. "You would know all about that, huh Han?"

Curry snorted, but Heyes just watched Mrs. Harrison scowl. "Yes, we've been greedy and done things we shouldn't, but we don't want to bring harm to any of you. If you'll just give us a little forgiveness and a little trust, I would appreciate it. It's been a whole lot of years since I've had any family. I'd be grateful for the chance to get to know you and your children, and to spend time with Jake."

Sarah's face softened. "Truce, Mr. Heyes?"

"Truce, Mrs. Harrison. But, please call me Joshua."

"Joshua?"

"I'm going by Joshua Smith, and my friend is Thaddeus Jones. They're the names the sheriff knows us by."

"Matt bought that? Doesn't seem like him," she wondered.

"It helps that Colonel Harper called us by those names. May I call you Sarah?"

"The children might wonder at the sudden familiarity. Why don't we stick to Mr. Smith and Mrs. Harrison for this visit."

"Whatever you think best."

"I'll go put the dinner on the table and send the children out to meet you. "

"Whatever you've got cookin', ma'am, it sure smells good." added Curry with a warm grin.

Sarah Harrison offered him a genuine smile. "Fried chicken, Mr. Jones. I hope you enjoy it."

"Fried chicken is one of my favorites."

"I'm glad. The children will be right out."

"Ma, may we be excused?" asked nine-year-old Rachel.

The dishes were mostly empty and conversation was sporadic and strained.

"You need to clear, and your brothers are to help with the dishes."

"But Ma, Mr. Jones promised to play marbles with us," complained the youngest Harrison, seven-year-old Zeke.

"I'll help with the dishes," offered Heyes. "If it's all right with you, Mrs. Harrison. Then the children can play with Mr. Jones."

Sarah chewed her lower lip and studied the hopeful faces of the youngsters.

"I'll be real gentle with 'em, ma'am," added Curry.

"All right," she relented, "but thank Mr. Smith for stepping in to help."

A chorus of 'thank yous' faded into the other room.

"That was kind of you, Mr. Smith."

"I don't mind, Mrs. Harrison. You've been gracious in opening your home to my partner and me. I want to show my gratitude."

"Well, you can start by clearing the table."

Sarah and Heyes joined the others in the parlor carrying a tray of coffee, cups, cream, and sugar. Thaddeus Jones sat cross-legged on the floor playing marbles with Zeke and Rachel. Heyes watched his partner, and felt a twinge of envy. Hannibal Heyes had not been around children since he had been one himself. Curry enjoyed an easy, casual rapport with them, but Heyes didn't know what to say.

Jimmy, Jake's eldest,was peering out the window at the night sky. Without a word he slipped through the french doors to a porch built over the boardwalk. Heyes set his coffee on the table and followed the boy outside.

Jimmy leaned his forearms on the porch rail and gazed across the Missouri River into the night sky. The moon was still hidden behind the hills, allowing the stars to shine brightly in the black velvet of the night. Heyes crossed the porch and leaned his hip against the rail, watching the boy.

Jimmy pointed at the sky. "The Big Dipper is right there, Mr. Smith. Do you see it?"

"I sure do. Do you know how to find the Little Dipper and the North Star?"

"Of course. Those two stars form a line. They point right to the North Star. It's at the end of the Dipper's handle. See?"

"Uh-huh. What about Cassiopeia?"

"Sure. That one's easy. Right there. The big 'W' in the sky." He traced the celestial 'W' with a pointed finger.

Heyes nodded. "I like that one."

The boy's brown eyes slid sideways and his mouth turned up in a familiar sly smile. "Can you find Cetus, Mr. Smith?"

"That one's a bit harder," Heyes replied, studying the sky. He grinned. "There!" He pointed out a set of stars near the horizon.

"That's real good, sir. Do you like lookin' at the stars?"

"My pa taught me when I was a boy. We spent time watching the sky together."

"Just like my pa taught me," beamed the boy. "His pa taught him too. Before he died. I'm named after my pa's father."

Heyes coughed to cover his reaction. "I know, " he choked out gruffly.

The boys brown eyes snapped wide in surprise. "How'd you know that?"

Heyes smiled smoothly to cover his error before he lied. "Your pa told me."

They studied the stars in companionable silence.

"Where's your pa, Mr. Smith?"

"He died too, Jimmy."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right. It was a long time ago."

"What happened?"

"War. People going crazy. It was a bad time."

"My pa's father died in a raid in Kansas. It was during the war too. I never got to meet him."

"I'm sorry about that, Jimmy."

The boy looked at the stars.

"Moon's coming," announced Heyes. "See that glow on the top of the hills? It'll rise over them real soon."

"The moon will make the stars disappear."

"They don't really disappear, ya know. The light of the moon just makes it harder to see the dimmer stars. The same thing happens in big cities. You can't see nearly as many stars in San Francisco because of all the gas lights."

"You've been to San Francisco?"

"Yep. It's a pretty city."

"But with less stars?" 

"You see less of them, but they're still up there."

The moon crested the distant hills in a large, orange crescent. The dark-haired man and the dark-haired boy watched as it clawed its way over the hills and marched slowly into the night sky.

"It sure looks big tonight."

"It does."

"Pa says that you and Mr. Jones are helping the sheriff. He says that you had a real smart plan to get rid of that gunslinger that came to town. Wish I was old enough to help. Pa's taught me how to hunt with a rifle, but he doesn't want me involved in the troubles in town." Jimmy turned shining brown eyes to the man he knew as Mr. Smith and tried a charming smile. "Do you think I'm old enough to help? I could learn to use a six-gun."

An owl hooted in the distance.

"How old are you, Jimmy?'

"Almost twelve, sir."

"When's your birthday?"

"Next month."

"Born in November, huh?"

"Yep."

"You've got good parents and a nice family, Jimmy. Be grateful for them. Me and Mr. Jones, we learned some things too early. Like how to use a six-shooter. Good things don't come that way."

"But you're doing good work. Pa says so."

"That real nice of him, but it took us a while to learn how to do things right. Do you understand?"

"Not really, sir."

Heyes chuckled and tousled the boy's straight brown hair. "You will someday. 'Til then, trust your ma and pa. They're doing things right for you."

Heyes turned toward the house and saw Sarah Harrison leaning against the door frame listening to their conversation. She wore a relaxed smile.

"I've got some apple pie if you two are interested."

"Apple pie!" shouted the boy running into the house.

"Sounds wonderful, ma'am," agreed Heyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Smith."

"For what?"

"For being the man my husband hoped you were."

"My past hasn't changed, Sarah."

"I know. But I think there might be hope for your future."

Heyes laughed. "Time will tell. Now how about that pie."

14


End file.
